Fugitive Fates
by The-Caitiff
Summary: Sequel to Taking Hostages. Join the newly married Harry and Gabrielle Potter as they try to figure everything out during the one year truce with Voldemort. Some comedy, some plot, and a few Zombies thrown in for fun. HPGD
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer; I do not hold the copyrights to Harry Potter or his friends. This is a piece of fan fiction produced for no profit at all.

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"So now that we're on our honeymoon, where would you like to go?" Harry asked his new wife. They had just spent the last hour sorting through tourist brochures, both magical and mundane, touting the exotic sights of Martinique and its neighboring islands. "If you want to go somewhere French we can explore Sainte Pierre and Mount Pelee, or head over to Guadelupe. It says here there is a good Wizarding alley in Petit-Bourg, and Saint Pierre is supposed to be the Paris of the Caribbean. Or we could go somewhere English like Trinidad or Montserrat. There's a group here offering broom flights over the volcano. What would you like to do?"

Stretching like across the sofa like a cat, Gabrielle Potter ( LaPlace according to the marriage license) allowed the top of her robe to open enough to distract him as she stroked his cheek and whispered in his ear. "What I want to do is drag you into the bedroom and see how loud I can make you scream."

Harry's mind shut down as his mouth started muttering gibberish. The young veela was much more affectionate and physical than anyone he'd known and seemed to have an almost instinctive knowledge of how to make him uncomfortable. Eventually he managed to pry his eyes away from the generous cleavage and reassert control of his mind. "Err... I really don't think that's a good idea. Now that we're married and have the bonding taken care of there's no reason to rush into things."

Gabrielle crawled into his lap and pressed her chest against him, "Why won't you love me?" She wriggled in his lap a bit. "I know you want to, and there's nothing wrong now that you're my husband."

Harry closed his eyes and concentrated on clearing his mind. Even when she wasn't blasting him with her veela charm it was hard to resist. "Gabby your body may be the same age as mine, but inside you are still an eleven year old. I feel like a creepy old pervert already, just try to think with your brain and not your hormones."

"But..."

He placed a finger on her lips. "No buts, now let's find something interesting to do today and I promise we can have a nice long cuddle after supper. You know, aside from Hogwarts and the Weasley home I've never really been anywhere. What should we do?"

"Let's go to St. Pierre, you definitely need clothes to suit your station and it will be nice to see what else they have that we can't get back home. Since we're on the edge of town, it's only about six kilometers. Should we fly or walk?" She stood to find her purse and assorted other things women seemed incapable of leaving the house without.

"It's pretty nice out, I don't mind a walk." Harry summoned his money pouch and vault key from his room. If there was a Wizarding bank he should be able to arrange something, according to Snape the Potter family had several million galleons so maybe it was time to start using them. "Now what was that about needing clothes to suit my station?"

"Delacour means 'of the Court'." Her voice floated out of their bedroom. "You are _noblesse acienne _now and people will expect you to uphold certain standards. It may not mean as much since the Revolution but being Old Nobility is still important to some people."

"That's only in France right? I'm not going to have to act stuffy while we're here will I?"

He heard a longsuffering sigh that reminded him of Hermione and he knew he'd said something wrong. "Don't they teach you anything in school? You're already in France. Martinique, Guadalupe, Guiana, and Reunion are still France."

"Yes Dear."

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While the muggle parts of St. Pierre had been destroyed by the volcanic eruption a century before, the wizards had just disappeared. Wards and fireproofing spells preserved most of the buildings and as soon as the eruption was finished the wizards rushed out to claim as much of the abandoned city as they could. Within days, while the ash was still falling and fires still burnings, witches and wizards in bubble head charms moved to make sections of the city unplottable and muggle repellant. Naturally this caused the muggles to assume it was all destroyed and now buried under tons of volcanic ash and debris. Within a few months magical Saint Pierre had surpassed its former glory and become the jewel of the region.

As they walked along the gravel path out of Bellefontaine, Harry couldn't help but look around him in awe. For a child who had only experienced suburban England and the Scottish highlands, a tropical island was about as radical a change as he could imagine. Mount Pelee rose in front of him to the north, and to the west he could see an ocean so blue it seemed it must have come out of a dream. About halfway to St. Pierre they passed the small store that served as a portkey point and customs office. The air was warm but a steady breeze from the trade winds kept them cool.

As they passed through the entryway into the magical town they discovered a city that was totally unique. All along the streets small merchants and craftsmen had stalls set up to hawk their wares while the larger businesses and homes hung in the background. This was not the orderly shopping district of Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade where there were only a few select places to get things and no competition. Harry noticed many stands selling the same things and there was no apparent organization to who was selling what.

Gabrielle asked for directions and they soon found themselves outside Gringotts. Unlike the white marble building of Diagon Alley, this one was built of black basalt and polished to a high shine. A lone inferi grunted and looked their way before a collar on his neck shocked him and he went back to pushing a broom. Arriving at the service desk a goblin seemed to ignore them until he was done scribbling something in the book before him.

"There," he said, finally looking up, "now what can Gringotts do for you Mr. Potter, Madame Potter."

Harry shook off the unexpected familiarity and English, jumping straight to the point, "I wish to know if it is possible for me to withdraw money from my account at this branch."

"Of course, so long as you have your keys just head to one of the regular tellers and they'll take care of it," the goblin told him. "If you wish to convert galleons to francs or East Caribbean dollars just return to this desk. The current exchange rate is one galleon to forty five francs or twenty five East Caribbean dollars."

"Thank you, do you mind if I ask why there is an inferi cleaning the floor?"

"They're called Zombi in the Caribbean Mr. Potter and local laws permit them to be used as servants in certain circumstances," the goblin gave a very toothy smile and nodded in the inferi's direction. "That one tried to rob Gringotts and was sentenced to death plus one hundred years. We find a visible deterrent helps keep crime down."

"Oh, well it would certainly make me think twice about trying. Thank you again for your assistance sir." Harry and Gabrielle went to the appropriate desk and waited for their turn with a teller.

"Votre clef si vous plait," the goblin said brusquely.

"Give him your key Harry." Gabrielle prompted her husband. The goblin examined it for a moment and pressed it to a line in his book.

"Merci, Holdspike vous mènera à votre coffre."

Another goblin came around from behind the desk and took the key, waving for them to follow him. He led them back into the bank and down a flight of stairs. Harry found himself looking at one of the infamous Gringotts carts.

"There must be a misunderstanding, my vault is in England."

"No misunderstanding, just get in the cart." The goblin insisted.

The cart took off rocketing down a dark tunnel and almost immediately dove straight down in a stomach wrenching maneuver. The ride quickly settled and within a minute or so the cart stopped outside vault 687. Dumbstruck Harry handed Holdspike his key and entered the vault. He numbly filled his money bag with enough galleons for a few weeks of playing tourist and rejoined Gabrielle in the cart. The cart shot off towards the entrance and once again Harry felt his stomach lurch as the cart made its transition from vertical to horizontal.

"The vaults aren't actually here are they?" He half asked.

"They aren't in London either," The goblin gave a bark of laughter as he escorted them back to the lobby.

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Shopping with Gabrielle was definitely an experience. The first thing he learned was that he didn't know anything about shopping and he definitely knew nothing about how to buy something. While Gabrielle was off looking at shells and jewelry he had tried to buy her one of the colorful scarves the local women wore. Luckily the vendor spoke English and he was immediately given a lecture about how the cloth was of local make and how the colors were all hand dyed. When he named a price Harry agreed it was reasonable and reached for his money. Suddenly the vendor added that not only was it hand dyed, but that his wife had done this one personally and that she was renowned across the island for her style and skill, a new price was mentioned. Slightly put off Harry agreed again only to be told about how rare the purple dye in the cloth was and the lengths they had to go through to get it. Slightly annoyed Harry demanded to know how much it would cost this time.

"You're really not very good at this are you?"

"Good at what? I just wanted to buy a scarf." Harry pointed out.

"Ok maybe you really don't understand." The vendor shook his head sympathetically. "Nobody here is selling anything at a fixed price. Buying and selling is all one big game and we love to play it. You mention that you like something I have to offer. I tell you why it is the best and name a price. Then you are supposed to tell me why it isn't the best and demand a lower price. We'll go back and forth and settle somewhere in the middle. If someone agrees to your offer it means it was better than they expected and you should hurry to fix it before the deal is finished."

"But then how does anyone get a fair price?"

"Because the whole system is based on trust and mutual respect, demanding to high a price or offering too low is insulting and reflects badly on you. If you make a habit of it you'll find less people who want to do business with you and the deals won't go in your favor," The man explained. "Now let's start this again, this scarf is woven from all natural fibers and no matter how many times you wash it the colors just won't run. I just can't let this piece of art go for anything less than three galleons."

"Three galleons? That's fifteen pounds! The colors are very nice but there's no real pattern to it. I'll give you one galleon."

"Oh, and never stop to convert your currency it marks you as an outsider or a tourist." The man winced but kept going, "No pattern? Clearly you've no eye for women's fashion. I'll have you know this was hand dyed specially so that when she wears it right there will be a pattern! It's not an easy technique, I'd be robbing myself to let it go for two galleons and eight sickles."

"Not an easy technique? Half the vendors here have the same display. Surely you could take one galleon and ten sickles?"

"I'd be taking a terrible loss, but perhaps I can tempt you to buy three of them for five galleons? Such a fine looking young lady would never have only one dress. Why should she only have one scarf for her hair?"

Harry pretended to think about it for a bit and seemed to reluctantly give in, "Alright but you'll have to help me out with a bit of information."

"Then we have a deal," They shook hands and completed the deal. "So what is it you want to know?"

"Well I'd appreciate it if you could tell me more about the market," Harry waved at the organized chaos surrounding them. "Now that I at least understand how to bargain, how about telling me how to find anything?"

"There's no set rule for where to find any particular type of item, but most of the vendors don't move around much. I've been in this same stall for six years now and I don't plan on moving anytime soon. Being this close to the bank lets me catch people while their money bags are still full you see," He gave a conspiratorial wink. "For the most part though, anything you'll find down here was probably made locally or enchanted by the people selling it. Further up the hill in the older parts of the city there are old, established businesses and boutiques for those that can afford them. That's really where the " Paris of the Caribbean" reputation comes from but most of us are pretty content to make do with out little bazaar."

"Good to know, is there anything here I should know to avoid? Somewhere "decent people" consider to be the bad part of town?" Harry wondered if there was some equivalent of Knockturn alley he should know to avoid.

"Not any one place, like I said it's all pretty mixed up. Unless you're specifically looking for it, I'd avoid stalls or stores decorated in black and red. Those tend to cater to Vodou practitioners and those people aren't the ones you want to offend casually."

"Voodoo, you mean like the little dolls you stick pins into? I thought that was a muggle myth."

"The dolls are a muggle idea, but real Vodou is nothing to be trifled with. They speak with the dead and make deals with spirits. There aren't as many here practicing the dark side of Vodou as you will find up north in Haiti but in my mind it's best to just let them be." The man shivered slightly.

"Do you mean they speak with ghosts or with the fully dead?"

"They can speak with the dead, learn all your secrets or embarrassing faults. And sometimes if you are responsible for them being dead, they might decide to return the favor," he said darkly. "But that is enough about that. Dreadful subject Vodou, like I said leave those people be unless you've got a reason not to. You keep that in mind and learn to bargain, you'll do alright."

"Thanks for the advice, I'll try to keep it in mind. Now if you'll excuse me I better go find my wife before she gets into trouble."

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Later that week, just before midnight on the day Gabrielle's grandmother was expected to arrive, Harry was scurrying down the deserted streets of St. Pierre with a very annoyed bird under one arm. He made a note to learn how to apperate soon as he searched for the tiny house he'd found a few days before. Eventually he found it and an old woman hurriedly ushered him inside, scolding him all the while for being late. She lead him into a small room that was lit with a large number of small candles. A strange pattern was drawn on the floor in a white powder. After a few last minute instructions, the woman kneeled and began chanting a few lines over and over. One by one the candles blew themselves out and Harry could feel the magic in the room building. Just as the magic built itself to a peak the woman stopped her chant and suddenly wrung the neck of the black rooster Harry had brought.

The magic in the air dropped off significantly as the woman turned to face him. Harry could see her features shifting rapidly and becoming more masculine and strong. When she spoke, it was with a powerful man's voice, "Why does a little white boy seek the council of Papa Ghede?"

Harry was surprised but remembered the woman's instructions. "I wanted to ask for advice from my family."

"And you want me to run fetch the deader for you? Advice is a good reason to ask for my help, but tell me why I should answer."

Harry straightened his back and became very serious, "A powerful man wants to kill me and all my friends. I'm not afraid of death but I need to speak with someone I can trust not to use me for his own ends. A wrong decision could cost many lives."

The spirit possessing the woman laughed in his great booming voice, "You aren't scared of death, but you're terrified of life boy! People die, that's the way things work, but what does it matter if they were never living to begin with?"

"Of course they are alive!"

"Alive, but not living... Look at yourself boy, you're the funniest thing I've ever seen. You've got power, wealth, fame, and a beautiful woman, but you do nothing with them. You're trying so hard to pretend that you're normal, it's like watching a bird try to swim!" He laughed heartily again as he pulled two cigarettes from the air and lit them.

"So you're not going to help me?" Harry asked despondently.

"No little white boy, I'll still help you. Just remember two things. First, everyone needs advice on occasion but you have to make decisions on your own. Second, live your life. When you die, you gonna see me or one of my friends. When you do, you better have a story to tell and it better not be of all the things you never got the nerve to do." The spirit smiled and blew a large smoke ring in the air, "So who do I have to bring back to knock some sense into your head?"

"I'd like to speak with my father please, James Potter."

"Ah-ha! There's hope for you yet little white boy, that man actually lived!" He pointed at the dead rooster and wiggled his fingers while stomping out a beat. The chicken stood up and began dancing a funny little dance while Harry laughed in spite of himself.

Suddenly the rooster turned to face him and stopped dancing, "Harry?"

"Umm... Hi Dad," Harry gave a little wave.

"Am I a chicken? What the hell are you trying to do to me? This is the weirdest prank I think I've ever been in." The rooster looked around a bit, trying to figure out what was going on.

"Ah that, well I needed some advice but everyone who could really help is either insane or wants to use me for their own ends. So I looked around for a bit, asked the right people and here we are." Harry shrugged. "Though to be honest, when I promised the witch fifty galleons and a rooster I thought I was buying her dinner. Whoops..."

"Harry, your mother and I will love you no matter what but you really shouldn't be messing around with necromancy," James the chicken tried to shake his head disapprovingly but it just finished breaking his neck and caused his head to fall over sideways. "Now what is the problem, I'll try to give you the best advice I can. Is it girl trouble? Because if you brought me back from the dead and turned me into a chicken just because you can't ask a girl out on a date..."

"No!" Harry rushed to stop him before he heard any of the same embarrassing advice Sirius had given him the summer before, "I've got a wife of my own now so I don't think I need that. A veela in fact..."

"Wow, you snagged a veela? Way to go son!"

"Uh yes, but that's not important right now. Maybe you and mum can meet her later. I need your help with something else. You know that prophecy about me and Voldemort?" Harry asked.

"Well it could be either you or Frank's boy but yes Dumbledore told us the prophecy."

"No, it's about me we definitely know that much now. The problem is that Dumbledore hasn't helped me at all. He is still leading the Order but all they want to do is keep me locked away until there is absolutely no other choice. They aren't even teaching me anything but the basic Hogwarts classes." Harry felt himself getting a bit petulant and tried to reign it in before he acted like a complete child in front of his father and Papa Ghede. "I want your advice about what to do now. I've got a bit of time before anyone will find me from either side but I don't know if going back to Dumbledore and the Order is really the right thing to do."

"Well son, if you're married and are starting a family of your own then it is time you acted like a man and stood on your own two feet. I'm not saying to throw away your friends or everyone in the Order who was only trying to protect you, but you need to stand up and take control of your life." James sighed, but it came out as a loud cluck causing everyone to snort and smile a bit. "Your mother and I thought about that prophecy a lot after we had you and the best advice I can give you is what we planned to do in the first place. Dumbledore knows a great deal of magic, and has a lot of power, but he still has some flaws. You Know Who was one of the best students Hogwarts ever had, next to Dumbledore himself and in some areas surpassed even him. Given time Dumbledore could teach you everything he knows, make you the Dark Lord's equal in every way, but can he teach you that power that the Dark Lord doesn't know? We didn't know either. Dumbledore and the Order are a great source of strength, they protect each other and share what they know but I encourage you to seek out other options as well. We don't know what your special power is so you need to try as many different things as you can until you find something that really works for you."

"Thanks Dad, I think that's exactly what I needed to hear."

"That's what parents are for. Is there anything else you needed to talk about?"

"No, but please tell Mum and Sirus I love them for me." Harry gave one last smile and wave before turning to Papa Ghede and nodding.

"Good luck son, stay safe."

Papa Ghede wiggled his fingers and James the chicken started dancing again to a lively beat. When Papa Ghede stopped, the rooster fell dead once more. "Now you remember what I tell you. You got a good life, live it!"

Harry watched as Papa Ghede left the old woman's body, her face became feminine once again as she lost bulky muscles. She seemed to have a seizure as she fell to the floor shaking. Her eyes opened again with a gasp and she lay on the floor breathing heavily.

"Did the spirits help you child?" The mambo asked.

"More than you can know," Harry smiled and helped her to her feet. "Thank you again priestess, I have a lot I need to consider."

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A/N; Well here's the start to my sequel. Let me know what you think. Mostly this is just more of the same. Some serious bits, some funny bits, and a plot loosely binding it all together.

I hope this answered some of the questions left unanswered by Taking Hostages, but if not don't worry more answers are coming. Again, please bear with me on the bad french as it is not my native language. Speaking of languages, some people might find it overly convenient that the Goblins, some merchants, and the priestess spoke English even though they are technically in France. In response, it's the Caribbean and almost everyone is multilingual. I've heard French and Creole as far north as the Bahamas, and I've heard English and Patois even in Haiti. Islands are small and people move about, if they couldn't talk to each other they'd have more wars than the Middle East. That market scene is directly out of my own experience when I first started living in Jamaica, life is very different and they treat business like a game. Fun, but confusing if you aren't used to paying different prices every time you go out for groceries (the end bill tends to wind up the same though so it evens out).


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer; I don't own, nor did I create, Harry Potter. I did however created the rules for weather magic we'll see later on.

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"Good morning Grandmere!" Gabrielle called out as Odette Delacour approached the split level home the next morning. She was happily munching on a pastry on the small balcony that overlooked the hillside and the path leading up.

"Good morning Gabrielle, you're looking particularly happy this morning." Odette gave her a saucy wink and a smile as she climbed the stairs to join her granddaughter. "Is Harry up yet?"

"He's all tied up at the moment, was there something you needed to speak with us about?"

"No, if he's busy it can wait but a lot of his friends asked me to bring you both messages when I came. Your husband certainly knows how to stir up a bee hive," Odette pulled out a small stack of letters and set them on the table. "I wasn't going to let them interrupt you during your honeymoon though. So how long do you expect he'll be?"

"Oh he's not busy, he's just tied up," Gabrielle giggled a bit as she blushed.

"Oh." Her grandmother smiled. "Well you're only young once, we'll let the poor boy have a lie in just this once."

"No need," Harry said as he joined them, still rubbing his wrists. "After dealing with Death Eaters and my relatives I think I know a bit more about knots than she does." Babette popped in with his usual breakfast and he sat down to eat. "So what's the news from home?"

"Chaos, turmoil, and other unpleasantness I'm afraid. People seem to think you've been kidnapped or are on the run. Your friends seem to know the truth but even there the reactions are mixed."

"How so?"

"Oh what's the name of that boy Fleur is dating? Bill... His young sister, you know the redhead, is very jealous. I think she had a bit of a crush on you. The other young lady with the bushy brown hair is upset with you because you didn't invite her to the wedding. They both tried to send you letters but there are very few owls who can fly halfway around the world even if I was willing to tell them where you were." She reached out to touch his arm sympathetically, "You have my condolences by the way. I had never realized just how hard it could be to deal with Monsieur Dumbledore. His reputation did not prepare me."

Harry shook his head sadly, "He means well, I think, but he can't see individuals. For him everything is about the big picture. Has there been any news about the Dark Lord?"

"Just that the two of you had agreed to stop fighting and about the children being left out of the war, I do believe your friends made a lot of money from that story. It was in every newspaper and magazine the very next day. They sold one photo to each paper and by the time they were done it seemed to the average wizard and witch that your family's home must have been a major press conference because there were so many "exclusive" photos. Should there have been more?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. "Well now that Voldemort knows it I don't suppose that it will hurt anything to tell my family. Please don't spread it around because it might cause a panic, but there is a prophecy about the Dark Lord and I. Basically I am the only one who can kill him permanently and vice versa. Honestly I half expected a massacre as soon as he realized he was immortal so long as I wasn't fighting."

"You forgot something important though," Gabrielle pointed out. "He knows that you can kill him. He might be holding off any major offenses until after he kills you."

"Why would he do that? He knows he has a free pass for the next year."

Madame Delacour shook her head, "He might not be able to die, but all of his forces can. If he moves now and takes over the Wizarding world in one massive bloodbath, he will be almost defenseless when you come back."

"So now the fate of the Wizarding world rests on whether Voldemort is a good strategist, or if he thinks I am one... Not a very appetizing prospect but nothing we can do about it now." Harry didn't quite know how to feel about that, so he just gave a half hearted shrug.

"Exactly, there's no use crying over spilt milk," Odette nodded approvingly. "Now we must move on to more practical matters. Have you given much thought to how you both are going to complete your educations? A young love and early wedding is always a joy but a proper gentleman will do his best to educate himself."

Harry nodded thoughtfully and considered how to approach the issue, "I agree with you. We have a lot to learn still both about magic and about how to live as an adult but the only thing I can say is that I am willing to work hard and learn. I talked with my father and he told me I should try to study as many types and fields of magic as I could until I found what really worked best for me. I think this might be good for Gabrielle too."

"Oh?" The older woman looked both scandalized and intrigued. "How do you think a patchwork education of many different styles could benefit you and your wife over a top education like Hogwarts or Beauxbatons could provide?"

"Well I think there are two reasons it will be better. In the short term, the prophecy says that I will have a power Voldemort doesn't know. Voldemort is the best student Hogwarts has seen in the past century and even surpasses Albus Dumbledore in some areas. I won't learn anything there that Voldemort does not already know. But when I consider the long term, I still might be better off. If we attend Beauxbatons or Hogwarts we will learn the same magic as everyone else, which means we will be competing with them for the same business opportunities. If we individually or together have a set of skills that are unique, our chances of adding to the family name and reputation are much improved."

She nodded thoughtfully and Gabrielle was looking both proud of her husband for his ideas and excited about the opportunities, "I can see the idea has some merit, but you must not neglect the traditional curriculum. Did you have any ideas about what you intended to study?"

"I picked up a few books in St. Pierre about native magic styles of the Caribbean and South America. The Arawaks and Caribs developed some unique weather magic. Vodou could be useful, if for no other reason but to talk with my parents on occasion, but it seems a little Dark. The Aztecs and Incas had some of the strongest blood magic in the world. I don't know what I'll do after I at least try each of them, but I'm sure we can find something. I know Alchemy started in ancient Persia, I had to look that one up in my first year." Harry smiled relaxed a bit in the sunshine, "But truly mastering any field of magic is a lifetime of work. The Potters were a very respected and wealthy family so we can afford to take time and find our niche. Then we replace it all with interest."

"I'm glad to see you are taking the initiative, it makes it easier to treat you as an adult. Very well if my Granddaughter agrees that is what we will do. We'll have to include some lessons on etiquette and French of course, you still need to meet my son, but I think you just might get by." She then smirked evilly and asked, "Now when can I expect my great grandchildren?"

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A few weeks later Harry was able to re-establish contact with the Order and everyone in Britain. He repaired the mirror Sirius had given him for Christmas and taken it to one of the enchanters in the city. After taking the charms off piece by piece he agreed that he could make another set and asked if Harry was interested in selling him the design so he could start making them for others. Eventually a deal was struck and Harry had himself a set of four mirrors and a hefty chunk of change.

That had been the easy part, getting them back to England had not proved so simple. The mirrors left on a parrot to Haiti, where another bird took them to Florida. There they started hopping between birds towards Canada where they finally crossed the Atlantic. Harry was beginning to give up hope when he heard Lupin's voice shouting from his pocket.

As soon as he dragged it out Remus looked immediately relieved, "Harry, where the heck have you been? Everyone has been going crazy looking for you two."

" France of course, where else would we go?"

"Nice try Harry but where ever this package came from it sure wasn't France."

"If you say so, and you always could have tried asking people where we were?"

"We did, Dumbledore and the Order practically turned Britain upside down and then we started looking at France. Naturally this really upset the Delacours who thought Gabrielle was visiting her Grandmother. That crazy witch was smirking the whole time! And then she up and disappeared too!"

Harry had to laugh at the harried and put upon form of his surrogate uncle. "Well the short version is that we eloped. There was a bit of aging potion, a couple fake passports, and a very cooperative priest involved but that's really not important. All that really matters is that we're fine, you're fine, life is good and at least one of my in-laws should be shacked up in the whacko basket."

"Madam Delacour? She did strike me as a little... Odd I guess is the best word, but aside from hiding you I don't think she's that bad."

"Nope, trust me on this one, that woman is madder than the hatter and his personal talking octopus. I think it might be hereditary." Harry twirled his finger next to his temple for emphasis, "So now that I've checked in and you know I'm fine do you think everyone will calm down a bit?"

"Some of them will, but I don't think Dumbledore will be happy until you are safe and sound at Hogwarts." Remus told him.

"Well then he's going to be unhappy for quite a while because I have a lot of work to do before I can come home," Harry gave Lupin a brief summary of his plans so far, vague about what he'd actually be studying so as not to give his location away. "I'm definitely willing to work with Dumbledore and the Order, but if I do they have to understand that I'm not going to be a child who needs to be lead. I'm growing up and taking on my responsibilities. I'm becoming a man in my own right and I'd appreciate being treated like one. Just a little respect, you know?"

"Well I can't say 'it's about time' since you're barely sixteen, happy birthday by the way, but it had to happen sometime." Lupin gave a half hearted smile. "Just do your best and don't be afraid to ask others for help. Even adults need help sometimes and you definitely have more than your share of responsibilities to keep track of."

"If I need help, I've certainly got enough people I can go to. Madame Delacour is being very helpful and supportive; I think she is intending to join us on our little adventure. I can always talk to the Order through you, and as soon as you give them the other two mirrors I can chat with Ron and Hermione. If things get really desperate I have a way to ask Sirius and my parents what they think."

"I wasn't aware they left impressions behind for portraits," Remus said with raised eyebrows.

"Neither did I, he said as he changed the subject," Harry gave an impudent wink. "Now I would love to chat all day but I've made an appointment with someone I hope can teach me and I'm almost there. I really need to learn apparition, this walking bit can be tiring."

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As it turned out, walking to his appointment had been to his benefit. The teacher said it showed his patience and willingness to do things the old fashioned way. Harry didn't bother to correct him. The man Harry had found to teach him about weather magic was a Carib who looked positively ancient, as if a stiff breeze could knock him over. When Harry had written to him about the instruction he had been glad to hear there were two young people willing to learn what most considered and obsolete and dying art. That changed a bit when they told him that Gabrielle was a veela but he was still willing to try to teach Harry. Apparently weather magic was almost an elemental control of water and air. Veela, being creatures of fire, would never master the art. Gabrielle and Odette decided it was just as well and had stayed behind to begin tutoring the standard curriculum.

The teacher, who asked to be called Jack, told him that the first steps were mostly mental discipline so he would not have anything to show for his efforts for quite a while. A child, Jack said, could inspire a few drops of rain to fall or hear his mother calling his name, but it was rumored that some of the greatest mages who mastered their mind could summon a hurricane or listen to his enemies plotting in the night. It was powerful magic, as deadly and mysterious as the sea itself but also a source of safety and life.

Jack asked Harry to remove his shirt and led him in meditation as they sat on the sandy beach. He instructed Harry to clear his mind of all thoughts and focus on nothing. Harry had a lot of trouble with this as thoughts of everything he had to accomplish kept rushing. Eventually he forced himself to ignore everything and sit quietly. Once Jack saw that he was able to sit still and had a peaceful look on his face, they began the next step. Jack told him to listen to the sound of the ocean and to feel the wind that was blowing across them. He said that Harry must let them into his mind and fill his thoughts. Nothing existed but the see and the wind. Smell the spices in the air, hear the crush of the surf, feel the caress of the wind, and taste the salty sea.

Harry sank deeper into his meditation with each sense he engaged. He smelled the wind and tried to dissect all the flavors. There was ginger, nutmeg, citrus, cinnamon, anise, and a hundred varieties of flowers from the jungle. The waves came in a predictable pattern, but each one sounded slightly different. Did the wave break all at once, at one end and slide to the other, or in the middle and work its way out? The wind too caused different sensations as it blew across him. It felt sensuous as it gently moved across his bare chest, tickling slightly as it curled around to his back. It was like a joking friend tousling his hair or brushing by his arms. Every sensation Jack told him to focus on made the rest of the world less important.

On Jacks instructions he became so deep in his focus that everything else was unimportant. He couldn't remember his name, and didn't feel concerned about that at all. All that mattered was the air and the water. He felt like he was flying again, the wind cradled him and held him while the waves spoke to him and told him all there was to know. He was the wind. He was the water.

Jack watched Harry as he meditated, at one point his eyes had opened and Jack was tempted to reprimand him but they stared at nothing and did not blink. Finally he saw signs that Harry had reached the right state for instruction and began to tell him the secrets of the storm. The understanding of how magic, water and wind interacted had to be placed deep within the student's mind so that over time it almost became instinctive.

This was not the European way of only allowing a tiny sliver of power out and forcing it to work as the wizard demanded. A weather mage had to give himself over to the magic. They could summon a storm but they could not control who the lightning struck. They could call forth a wind to drive the storm away, but could not stop it from sinking the fisherman's ships. A weather mage embraced the water, the air, and the magic until they were everything. The water was their body and the air their blood, a storm their fury. They let loose great torrents of magic all at once to cause great change but if the were not careful they could easily turn loose all of their magic and die or become a squib. But what they did, they could also undo. They could absorb the power of the storm back into themselves, until it was just water and air once again.

Suddenly Harry's eyes shot open from their half lidded state and he gave a yelp. "I did it! I did what you said and embraced the water. I was trying to call it to me and that last wave just sloshed the back of my pants!"

Jack gave a heartfelt laugh as he smiled, "No child, that's just the tide coming in. It looks like today's lesson is over. I want you to practice controlling your mind. You must be able to reach that perfect harmony in your mind before you can bend the weather to your will. When you can reach that peaceful state quickly we will begin the next step. I will see you again next week."


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer; I do not claim to own the characters herein nor am I making any money from this piece of fanfiction.

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"Any wizard with a wand can turn a glass of water into steam, can summon a pillow, or levitate a crate," Jack was in his element again, teaching Harry the basics of weather magic. "A weather mage does not waste energy making steam when he only needs mist. You do not need to levitate the mist, warm air rises on it's own, and a cloud for all it's massive size and power is easy to move. Just give them a gentle pull in the right direction and they'll come on their own eventually."

"But how should I make the cloud? Should I try to wandlessly transfigure the water into mist? Cast a heating charm on the whole ocean?" Harry sighed for the tenth time as he closed his eyes and sought the proper mindset. He was, after much practice, to the point in his training that he could reach that inner harmony in only a few moments but the secrets of weather magic still proved illusive.

"No, you have everything you need all around you, the water below and the sky above. Just sort of put some of your magic into the air and some down into the water, then stir it up a bit. The ingredients are there you only need to mix them together and guide them where they need to be. Don't try to cast a spell, just move your magic around and let it interact with nature as it will," Jack caused the wind to stop blowing and almost immediately the hot, humid air became oppressive. "Release your magic, wrap the winds around you and let that warm wet air rise to the heavens."

Harry took several deep breaths and focused on letting his magic loose. Inside his mind he could feel his thoughts and emotions deep below him as his consciousness floated on an endless sea of sky and water. Harry pulled on his magic and let it flow outward like an oil slick between the two. In the outer world a very slight breeze began to blow and Jack slowly released his own magic's hold over the weather.

The trade winds which were typical for the latitude returned and Jack sat back to watch his student. Inland, where the warm wet air passed over the cooler mountain and jungles, a grey mist started to gather. Determination was evident on Harry's face as it grew ever so slightly. Within minutes the wispy cloud floated overhead and delivered a few drops of rain on its way past. Jack was expecting Harry to jump for joy but instead his forehead only crinkled with strain and sweat began to form on his brow.

Ever so slowly, the cloud stopped and moved back towards them against the wind. In the mindscape Harry had dug in his heels and was pulling for all he was worth. He could see and feel the cloud, floating as a ball of his magic, but he did not want to let it go. More and more his mind and magic tried to chain the cloud down and bring it back to him. Inch by inch, it slowly moved back towards the two men on the beach. Once it was finally back overhead, Harry reached out and stripped the magic out of it, pulling it back into himself. With a soft crack the cloud collapsed instantly and the two men were soaked as if with a bucket and Harry fell backwards exhausted.

"Is there a reason you decided to waste your strength?" Jack asked his student.

"I wanted... the magic... back..." Harry panted from where he lay on the ground.

"Then why didn't you take it? You made the cloud form at a distance, why couldn't you disperse it at a distance?" Jack shook his head but kept a joker's grin. "Furthermore, if you wanted to move the cloud, why didn't you divert the wind around it? Pulling several tons of water is hard, changing the wind's direction so you don't have to is easy."

"I don't know how."

"Nonsense Harry, come look at the water," Jack knelt at the edge of the surf and made a V shape with his hands. When the next wave rushed in, the water rushed down either side of the V and then swirled in from behind moving against the general flow. "You see, if you move the air in front of your cloud to either side ever so slightly it forms an eddy and pushes in the other direction. It hardly takes anything at all to move against the wind if you know how. If you keep diverting the wind in the same place the cloud will stop and hover in an area."

Harry tried making a few other shapes in the waves and watched how the water flowed, considering how he could move the clouds once he really got the hang of making them. It was rather like flying on his broom and sticking his hand out to the side, he could feel the pressure differences and how they wanted to move things. Idly, Harry summoned a few leaves and dropped them one at a time into his magical maze to see if he was getting it right. Seeing that his student was taking the next step on his own, Jack stood up and moved out of the surf.

"Your homework for this week is to water my garden. Be careful though, my herbs are delicate and I don't want them drowned."

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Since he only had weather magic once a week, Harry filled the rest of his time with other endeavors. He and Odette tutored Gabrielle in magic and they tutored him in French and how to function in polite society. Odette had never been very successful in Defense or Charms, so Harry worked with them as best he could. They probably focused more on practical spell casting than a school would have, but theory could be looked up in a book and experience was more useful to everyday life. Because of that they managed to burn through the _Standard Book of Spells Grade One_ in only a few weeks.

Since it was summer they also took time off to enjoy themselves, but Harry kept his eyes open for anything new he might want to learn about. It was on one of these trips that Harry found a second teacher. He'd been sending letters to curse breakers, museums, and heritage groups asking for names of people who were proficient in Incan or Aztec blood magic. Initially he thought that with so many ruins in this part of the world that a curse breaker might be able to show him the basics, or that a museum might have an expert they called in for help. Instead he found that whoever knew, wasn't talking.

When the Spanish had come, Cortes had ordered all texts on Blood Magic burned as his predecessors had done to the Mayans. The Spanish viewed the magic soaked in blood to be Dark Magic of the worst sort and drove the practice underground. Modern books agreed that only a few rituals required a sacrifice and fewer still a human one.

It was a surprise therefore when on a trip to Venezuela to see some ruins their teacher found them. Harry and Gabrielle were exploring an Inca outpost when a woman hurried up to them. Neither of them spoke Spanish or Portuguese however and she did not speak French or English so communication was a bit difficult. It was easy to see that she was excited to meet them though and Harry was beginning to fear that his fame was well known in this part of the world.

After shouting something to her friends, a man came running with two more sets of the lovers necklaces Harry and Gabrielle wore. This was what really set Harry's mind running. Those necklaces were not cheap and since they could only be used by one person, using them for just a conversation was beyond wasteful. Soon Harry and Gabrielle were wearing a second pendant and the woman was chattering away again.

"We're so happy you've finally come," She gushed. "The priests will be very pleased to hear that Tlaloc and Xochiquetzal's children have come at last. This is so exciting! The prophecy..."

"Whoah!" Harry clapped his hand over the woman's mouth to stop her from saying something he didn't want to hear. "If there is a prophecy about me, please don't tell me. I will appreciate all the help you might want to give me, and I am usually happy to help others, but please leave Divination to the experts."

"But if you do not hear it how will you know what it says?" The woman asked.

"Once you hear a prophecy it changes how you would act. If you hear that you will become a great leader you will probably study hard and work to achieve that goal. But when the time comes are you a leader because of your own skills or because of a prophecy?" Harry explained. "But if you never hear the prophecy and it happens anyway, that was a true prophecy. I would prefer to let what happens happen. I do not want to be the one to change the fate of nations, but if I do anyway then I will deal with that when the time comes."

"If you can avoid telling him the prophecy, I am curious to know why you think we are these people. We haven't even been introduced yet," Gabrielle inquired politely. "This is my husband and Mate, Harry Potter, and I am Gabrielle."

"Maria Sanchez de Santos," she introduced herself. "There is a prophecy about the children of Tlaloc and Xochiquetzal. Tlaloc is the god of thunder, Xochiquetzal is his wife and goddess of pleasure and sex."

"Swear to Merlin I should just cut this bloody scar off and save myself the trouble!" Harry traced his lightning bolt scar ruefully. "And there is no way this could be about some other couple?"

"Maybe for your wife but we've been certain about you for several years. May I tell you just one small piece to tell you why?" Maria waited for his reluctant nod before continuing. "The prophecy says that Tlaloc's child will be one that death failed to take. Hasn't Grand Sorcerer Dumbledore mentioned our letters? The priests have been asking him about letting you come in some kind of student exchange program for several years."

"Alright, you win," Harry threw up his hands in defeat. "We'll be happy to learn whatever you or the priests want to teach us. We'll try to do what we can in return but under no circumstances do I want to hear that I have to do something just because of some prophecy."

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Harry woke up unexpectedly one night, late in September. He was exhausted from the day's lesson in blood magic and needed his strength for weather magic the next day, but for some reason he woke from a deep sleep to full alertness. Something felt different but he couldn't place his finger on what. He breathed deeply for a few seconds and focused on himself, going through the exercises he'd been taught. He focused his mind and magic on his blood first, if there was something immediately deadly that was where it would be. He became aware of the network of veins and arteries, the blood running through them and the magic that burned like a banked fire, ready to flare into life at his command. When he could find nothing there out of order, he looked to the objects he had linked to him by blood. There was nothing missing there either.

Then he felt something, a powerful pull on his mind. A wind ruffled his hair and heard a soft voice whisper to him, too soft to make out. The sound of waves crashing filled his mind and an ethereal wind blew through him, pulling him, leading him. Without bothering to put anything on over his boxers he followed the wind. A few minutes later he found Jack standing waist deep in the surf.

"What's going on?" Harry asked.

"Shush," Jack raised his hand. "One last time you must listen. You still have much to learn but I cannot teach you. You have the knowledge, now you must use it. You've made the wind blow, the rain fall, and you heard me calling on the wind. Practice these skills because there are more ways to combine them than there are stars in the sky."

"Why can't you teach me?"

"Things came up," Jack said simply. "There's some group in Dominica trying to build a new resort that will just wreck the local flavor so the Garifuna leaders put out a request for all weather mages to come help out. We're going to make sure there's not a single ray of sunshine there until those money hungry developers leave. Maybe working together we can brew up a few really big storms or a hurricane at just the wrong time."

"So what should I do?" Harry asked.

"Well you were my apprentice right?" Harry nodded. "Then consider this your promotion. You're a Journeyman now, so journey. You've got the basics so go out, wander around for a bit, tinker some, and come find me if you think you're ready to call yourself a master."

Before Harry could find a response, the wind whipped up exponentially and began to swirl around Jack. Thunder cracked and lit up the night allowing Harry to see a dark shape descending from the sky, causing him to scramble back. A second later, the water around Jack rose to meet it and suddenly Harry found himself struggling to stand on his feet as a waterspout formed a dozen yards away. The waterspout began to move at an amazing pace to the north and Harry watched the weirdest form of magical transport yet carry his former mentor off into the night.

It would be a long time, Harry realized, before he could claim to be a master at this new art. If he ever could, he corrected himself quickly.

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The rest of September and October worked much the same. Harry dual-apperated himself and Gabrielle to Venezuela twice a week for lessons in Blood Magic while the rest of their time was focused on traditional subjects. Because of the distance involved Harry had to make a layover on Trinidad both ways but the more times he made the trip the easier it became. Depending on when they visited Maria's home, Priests and scholars came from either Peru or Mexico to meet them half way. Maria had studied at one of the main temples in Mexico but mainly she played host and translator for her distinguished guests.

Blood Magic and Weather Magic actually had a lot in common it turned out. Neither relied on fixed spells but both required a lot of self discipline and will power. As Weather Magic focused the mind and magic outwards into the environment, Blood Magic focused them inwards through the body. Blood magic acted on the principle that the body, mind and magic were all one. It was possible to separate some of the blood from the body, infuse it with magic, and then control it to some extent with one's mind. One example of this was tying important objects to oneself magically through blood. By allowing some of his blood to soak into his wand and fiddling the magic just right, Harry was able to summon his wand to his hand the same way he could steer a cloud, careful concentration and a lot of willpower. In essence the wand became an extension of his body and his mind controlled it like everything else.

That was just the tip of a very large iceberg and Harry found himself working like Hermione after a few cups of coffee. Gabrielle on the other hand took to the discipline like a duck to water once she was taught the proper meditative exercises. It seemed that because of her veela powers her body was more receptive to the mind-magic-body gestalt.

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The day before Halloween the Potter Family in exile were treated to the desperate pleas of Remus Lupin calling from the mirrors.

"Harry, thank Merlin you heard me!" He said as soon as Harry's face appeared in the mirror, "We need help and we're calling everyone who is at least sympathetic to our cause."

"What's going on?"

"Voldemort is launching an attack on the school."

"What are you talking about? He can't, it would break the contract and he'd lose his magic," Harry nearly yelled. His face became pensive as he tried to think of what Voldemort's real goal was.

"Just because he can't hurt the children doesn't mean he can't take over the school," Remus corrected him. "Most of the Order of the Phoenix are here including Dumbledore. So long as you're alive Voldemort knows that Dumbledore can't kill him so he might be the target."

"Damn, that's clever," Harry admitted. "He's attacking somewhere he knows Dumbledore will fight to the death to protect and can't flee if the battle turns against him."

"It gets worse. So long as he doesn't hurt them, Voldemort can take the children hostage and use them against us or if he's willing to wait, against you."

"But why are you calling me? You know I can't fight him."

"So don't fight," Lupin said simply. "We're going to need everyone we can get, and that includes stupidly brave people who can run into the fight and help anyone that get hurt."

"And if I'm there someone might get cocky and make me defend myself. Sounds like a job for a Gryffindor," Harry said cheekily. "As if you didn't know I was coming as soon as you mentioned the school. Should I take my time and arrive as strong as possible or do I need to get there now even if it kills me?"

"We need help now. We don't know when to expect the attack but our new spy tells us that Voldemort sent his men to gather his troops last night."

"Alright, let me see if Grandmum is willing to help and we'll be right there." Harry promised as he turned the mirror off. As he walked through the house, Harry summoned his wand, obsidian knife used for blood magic, and invisibility cloak to him. He doubted any of his blood magic would be useful offensively but having a last ditch weapon was always a good idea.

In the end Gabrielle insisted on coming with him and Odette backed her up. They couldn't leave her undefended and she might be of some use running errands. Reluctantly Harry agreed and waited as his wife and her grandmother gathered everything they could think of that might be useful. As soon as everyone was ready, Harry had them grab on to him and he closed his eyes. Centering himself, Harry reached out with his mind and pulled...

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A/N; Not much humor in this chapter, I'll have to work on this in the future. The Blood Magic is something I was developing for my original fiction piece and we'll see other uses eventually (and one of these days the story it comes from will be available, probably after I stop hating it). Next chapter... Humor, excitement, blood, guts, and dead baby jokes. 


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer; Dead puppies aren't much fun, but they can be funny.

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_As soon as everyone was ready, Harry had them grab on to him and he closed his eyes. Centering himself, Harry reached out with his mind and pulled... _

At first as they sailed through an empty void, Harry felt an empty ache deep within his soul. He knew then that he'd abused his magic, but this sort of reaction was unlike anything he'd experienced before. Eventually the three began to slow and Harry felt like he was flying into a sandstorm, each little speck grinding his skin like a sand blaster. The pain grew until it reached unimaginable heights and he felt his skin being sanded away. Abruptly Harry and his passengers slammed to a halt and fell onto a stone floor in a darkened room. Fire ripped through his arm when he moved and when Odette cast a light spell he saw a large bone white fang lodged halfway through his bloody arm.

Slowly Harry forced himself to dig the communications mirror out of his shredded pocket.

"Mooney," he whispered, "are you still there?"

"I'm here Harry, what's wrong? You don't sound so good."

"Tell Dumbledore to send Fawkes down to the Chamber of Secrets and ask Madam Pomphrey to get my bed ready. We're here but the wards did a number on me coming in."

"Merlin," Remus swore aloud before running passing on his message. "Help will be there soon but expect to be grilled later on how you plowed through some of the strongest wards in history. Is Madame Delacour hurt too?"

Gabrielle and Odette assured him they weren't, "No, I guess this is just magic punishing me for breaking the rules again."

His musings were interrupted by a flash of fire and a trill of phoenix song when Fawkes popped in moments later.

"Hey Fawkes, do you think you could take us up to the infirmary?" Harry asked politely.

Fawkes gave a nod and turned to present his tail feathers to the group of travelers. Phoenix travel was apparently one of the better forms of magical transport Harry decided. All they felt was a warm caress as flames licked over them and suddenly they were in a different part of the castle entirely. Pomphrey was on him in an instant tutting about how he was leaking blood from every pore. First she forced a mild pain relieving potion down his throat then dealt with the immediate problem of an eighteen inch long tooth in her patient's arm.

"How did this happen?" She questioned him as she cast detection charms at the fang to check its toxicity.

"My spell backfired," Harry explained. "Usually I can summon things bound to me with a simple spell. I was pretty injured down in the Chamber so I thought I'd give it a try. The problem was that I couldn't summon a castle anchored into the bedrock. It would be like trying to move the world. So instead the magic inverted on me and dragged us here."

"I really don't understand but I'll take your word for it. Now Mr. Potter, it appears the fang is still very toxic. Fortunately time has dulled the power somewhat so we should be able to cure it. Now when I remove the fang, you're probably going to lose a lot of blood and you might even pass out but I should have no trouble closing the wound. Then we'll start dealing with the rest of this." Pomphrey waved distractedly at his full body abrasions.

Harry closed his eyes and tried to do a bit of self diagnosis, "I'm not being poisoned," He looked to Poppy with a confused expression. "Could my earlier massive overdose have somehow made me immune? I can't detect much, it's like somebody turned the volume way down on all my magical senses, but I'm definitely not being poisoned."

"It's possible, but I'll still have to run a few tests. Now, on three... One... Two..." The nurse never got to three, she swished her wand on two and caused the fang to come flying out. Just like she promised the wound gushed blood and Harry fought to stay conscious. Madam Pomphrey cast seven spells in the first five seconds and Harry could feel the flesh in his arm knitting back together. Eventually it got to a stage that she thought was acceptable and she summoned a jar of ointment and gauze. "Now we just need to dress the wound in this potion to boost your immune system and stimulate your natural healing. You'll need to change the dressing every morning but you should be right as rain within the week if there isn't a delayed reaction to the poison."

Gabrielle nodded and copied the instructions down on a parchment her Grandmother handed her.

"Thank you, now let's just make sure there's nothing else wrong with me and work on closing up the rest of this," Harry gestured at his bare legs which were looking much better than they had when he came in. "I've started healing myself but I should have been nearly done by now. I really don't know what's wrong with me."

"Well let me take a look..." Pomphrey cast several charms but sucked in her breath with a look of shock when the results came up. "How in the world did you do that?" She nearly yelled at him.

"What's wrong?" Harry perked up as much as he could.

"What's wrong is that your blood looks like it's been through a blender! Almost half of your red blood cells have been shredded by whatever you did, you need blood replenishment potions NOW and maybe even a transfusion." A few quick waves of her wand summoned a new set of equipment and potions from her store room.

"Wait!" Harry threw up a hand to stop her before she forced the first potion down his throat. "If I don't get those potions, will I die?"

The nurse looked at him strangely for a few moments and thought about it, "No, but you won't be good for much and it will play havoc with your liver. This is very serious Mr. Potter and not something to play around with. You need blood to carry oxygen through your body. As depleted as you are you will tire easily and have trouble staying awake for long periods of time. The main trouble though will be your liver. Some cells die naturally every day, but the body isn't meant to have that much dead material in it at once. As it dies, your body releases poisons which the liver filters out. That many dead cells all at once will be very painful and could damage your liver."

"I won't take the potions," Harry told her, pushing the first one away. "I've been learning another method for magic lately that revolves around tying your mind, your magic, and your body together. If I take anything that messes with my blood it will set me back weeks at the very least because the foreign magic will have to be purged first and I'm not able to do that yet. Like I said, this was the backlash of a spell gone wrong, I can't afford to risk tampering with my blood right now or the next one could be worse. Especially with Voldemort coming, I can't take that chance."

"If you're going to be in a fight, you need all your blood more than ever!" She protested.

"Blood magic is good for healing, I can use what I've got left to make more. Just give me something to help out my liver and heal these scrapes. I need to be able to move and I need every trick in my arsenal."

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A little less than an hour after they had arrived, Harry Gabrielle and Odette walked into the staff lounge that the Order had commandeered. Madam Pomphrey wanted Harry to stay of course but he conjured himself a sling for his arm and ignored her protests as he let himself out. Remus and the elder Weasleys nearly mobbed him as he came through the door but stern glares from Odette warned them off.

Moody stomped over and looked them over before grunting, "Good of you to show up Potter. I may not agree with your decision but that's in the past now and it does make this fight just a little less complicated."

"At least you're honest with me Moody," Harry extended his hand and was mildly surprised when the grizzled old Auror shook it. "Now who's in charge here?"

"I am, Dumbledore is busy with keeping the school and ministry from falling apart so he asked me to coordinate our fighters," Moody informed him.

"Well don't stop on our account. We'll play catch up on the details but if you'll tell us what you need we'll do the best we can," Harry promised.

"As if you and the tart could do anything anyway Potty," came a sneer Harry knew all too well. "Your precious agreement with the Dark Lord says you couldn't fight even if you were brave enough. How predictable that you'd try to soak up all the glory to prevent everyone from seeing what a coward you really are."

"Why if it isn't my least favorite Malfoy," Harry called brightly as he turned around. "Let me guess you're the new spy? If Dumbledore believes that he's dumber than I thought. So let's assume that your information is even remotely accurate. Can we assume Voldemort is bringing the dementors? Or maybe trolls, werewolves, vampires, giants, or some other Dark beasties to act as shock troops before the Death Eaters invade?"

"Of course Potter, the Dark Lord's army is vast and powerful..."

"Spoken like a true follower and propaganda box," Harry cut him off. "Now let me enlighten you to one of the loopholes I slipped past Old Man Riddle last time I saw him. He can't order any of his forces to attack children, and must punish any that do, but I am only restricted from fighting Voldemort and his Death Eaters. I've got a free pass to kick Dementor ass and anything else not wearing a Mark. I'm sure that there will be more than I can handle anyway so functionally I'm just as useful as ever." Harry looked smug, "And you call yourself a Slytherin!"

"Typical show off Potter."

"You know Harry," Odette started slowly, looking at Malfoy, "I wonder what the going rate for a spy is. I'm willing to bet Voldemort would give you a few extra weeks if you went ahead and saved him the trouble of executing the little boy."

Draco paled slightly when Gabrielle nodded enthusiastically. "Oh yes, he did seem to enjoy killing that Snape fellow. But I don't want you to get your clothes all bloody, why don't you just send him another letter?"

"No," Harry told them, "I won't turn him in, yet. As much as he deserves whatever happens, the Order needs some way to keep track of everything Riddle is up to. In the mean time I'd like to talk strategy and specifics with Moody, so I'll need the ferret out of here."

Malfoy bristled at the back handed dismissal but started moving when the veela women conjured fireballs and gave him a meaningful look. Moody meanwhile gestured over towards a corner that was empty.

"Good to hear that you're not going to be a liability in this fight," Mad-Eye said gruffly. "When Lupin told me you were coming he gave me the impression you would only be support crew, and I don't mean to hurt yer feelins lad but you'd be more trouble than you were worth if we had to protect you on top of everything else."

"I was afraid of that too, but to be honest Madame Delacour pointed out the loophole, it wasn't intentional. I was just as surprised as the rest of you." Harry sighed heavily as he looked out the window. "I don't know how much help we'll end up being but you will want us focusing on the nuisance fighters. Grandmum and I both have good patronus charms but it's still far beyond Gabrielle's skills. I wouldn't have even brought her along but they both tore into me. They said something about a wife's duty and veela never letting their mates go into danger alone, it seems whenever veela get mentioned it automatically puts me on the loosing end of the argument."

"Nah, that's women in general," Moody told him, "One of the many reasons I never married. It'll be a shame to see you hiding in the rear though. You're a powerful wizard and from what I know of that incident in the Ministry last year you've got some decent instincts."

"Don't think of it as having me in the rear, think of it as me covering your back. We can't all be one on one with the baddies," Harry looked out the window and stared pensively at the front lawn of the school. "I just got an idea. Do you know any spells to let you see heat?"

"Sure, and my eye has a few tricks too as you well know. What's your plan?"

"Watch," Harry dropped into his meditation and reached for the lake. The cold fresh water lake felt different from the warm salty ocean but in it's essence it was still the same. Within moments a thick, pea soup fog began rolling off the lake and covered the lawn. In a matter of minutes the fog was so thick that they could not see the ground from their second story window. "We're in a freaking castle, it was meant to withstand assaults by much larger armies. If we can stay inside and pick them off as they try to get through my fog we'll be a lot safer. The fog is very cold so if we just watch for hot spots we can hit them before they ever see us."

"It would also let us take them out without killing them," Moody said thoughtfully. "If they can't see their allies fall, they can't bring them back into the fight. How hard is it for you to summon this or get rid of it?"

"I can mix it up in just a few minutes as you saw and I can literally hold it all day without getting tired. Why don't you try to get rid of some before I answer the rest of the question? We'll see how it holds up to combat conditions." Harry was genuinely interested too, he'd never tried to affect the weather with spells but this wasn't genuine weather either. Mad-Eye shot off a spell to vanish some of the fog. Harry felt the spell as it hit, his magic in the fog striking against the spell. Some of the fog did disappear but it was only a tiny spot in the vast cloud and was quickly replaced. "Interesting it's like having a spell hit your shields. Why don't you try a jet of water? Rain usually clears up a fog."

A quick spell later and Harry was feeling some very unusual sensations. The water jet cut right through his fog like a large axe through a defenseless hamster but it didn't actually diminish the fog. As soon as the jet was past the fog flowed back into place and Harry didn't feel any difference in his magic. While the banishing charm used up a bit of his magic when it vanished the fog, the water did not.

"That could be very distracting in battle but I think it will work pretty well. Now I'll just clean this up and you can tell me where you want us exactly." Harry went for effect and extended his arm along with his mind. He mimed seizing the magic back and the dense fog collapsed with a whoosh, a visible wave of water falling to the ground as it receded towards Harry.

"Neat trick, it just might help us. Now we expect that the Dark Lord will send in inferi first to soften us up. Are you familiar with them?"

"Walking corpses, they're generally mindless except for the desire to attack the living," Harry confirmed. "They can be a pain in the rear to destroy."

"And since they are not alive your fog would only give them an advantage. Take your two witches and half the seventh years, the inferi are yours and we'll need you to help if any dementors show up," Moody waved towards Odette and Gabrielle. "Get a list of volunteers from Lupin, and come back to me when you've got a plan."

"Alright, I'll talk to some people and see what we can come up with," Harry promised. With a wave to Gabrielle, Harry walked out to start their planning.

00000

In a disused classroom, three people were working hard on their preparations. Harry had his nose stuck in a book, cramming last minute notes for the magic he was about to perform. Gabrielle was clearing off the teacher's desk and setting up a selection of candles while Hermione dug through the selection of books she'd shoved into her book bag before Harry dragged them to Hogwarts.

"Gabby, I keep getting this mixed up," Harry called, looking up from his book. "Are we trying to do something _hot_ or _cold_?"

"That depends, do you want to persuade the Zombi to go somewhere else or do you want to kill them?" Gabrielle asked as she finished setting up the work area with found or transfigured items.

"Either works but it's probably best to destroy them so Voldemort can't use them again," Harry told her.

"That's hot, anything aggressive or passionate. Cold is when you want information or calm action."

"Rats that means we won't be calling Papa Ghede," Harry commented as he flipped to a different entry in the book. "After he let me introduce you to my parents I kind of like Ghede."

Hermione's head whipped around, "What are you about to do?"

"Nothing dangerous or Dark," Harry promised his friend, who was clearly a bit upset by his last comment. "I'm going to ask a Loa for help is all."

"Ask a Loa? What's that mean?"

Harry thought about how to explain what he knew without making it sound like scary Dark magic. Eventually he decided to just omit the proper names and explain it the same way it was first explained to him. "It's kind of complicated but let me see if I can explain.

"Belief is a powerful thing, both for muggles and wizards. Over time if enough people believe something it comes true, sort of like divination and prophecies. What I call Loa might better be named Avatars. They are basically an idea made real because enough people believe it and gave it power. Once they gain enough power to really affect the world they also start to acquire a personality based on how people imagine them.

"What I am going to do is ring the door bell and ask one of these Avatars to come visit us for a little bit. Specifically there are four Loa, three bothers and a father, that would know more than anyone alive about inferi. I'm going to ask one of them if they could help us deal with the inferi easily so no one gets hurt."

"So you're just going to pray to some invisible god and hope your problems disappear?" Hermione looked offended. "I don't mean to insult you but I don't think that's really going to help."

"Not exactly, it's more like casting a spell to give a ghost a body temporarily so they can help you," Harry wiggled his hand in a noncommittal fashion. Turning to Gabrielle he handed her his book and pointed at one section. "Since your Grandmother is out already gathering other little surprises, call her up on the mirrors and make sure we can get everything on this list. My Creole is still not as good as my French and I'd hate to piss off a Loa because I couldn't read the instructions."

"Haven't you done this before?" Hermione asked him with a touch of concern.

"Not exactly, but I've seen it done a few times," Harry avoided looking at her. "And technically never with this particular Loa, but I know his family so I'm just going to wing it and hope for the best."

"Harry, you can't..." She started but Harry moved to cut her off.

"There's a bit of wiggle room, I'm not going to get us all killed," Harry promised while thinking to himself that he'd be the only one seriously hurt by a bad summons, "Now go round up the Order. I want all the heavy hitters and anyone really important in here before Grandmother gets back. Dumbledore too, kick him in the shin and drag him by the beard if you have to."

00000

The Order members didn't quite make the deadline but Harry took advantage of the time to pass out some of Odette's supplies to his seventh year group. At first they were all confused by the strange plastic devices but after a demonstration of their abilities from Harry (writing his name on the front lawn in flaming cursive letters impressed them a bit), the seventh years went off to have a water fight – err... we mean practice – with their new water guns and saved the petrol for the battle. Moody who had arrived first had seen the demonstration and expressed his approval. Fire was a critical weapon against inferi and flaming petrol would save their magical strength for later in the battle.

Once everyone had arrived Harry took charge of the meeting and asked everyone to settle down before giving a very sketchy outline of his plans. "It's a two part ceremony but I wanted you all to know which guests might be joining us tonight so that you won't curse them if you see them. The first part should give us all a bit of a boost and the second might or might not help out against the inferi themselves depending on how things go. If you want to stay and watch that's fine but no matter what happens do not interfere. Leave it up to the Delacours."

"Where did you learn this technique Harry?" Dumbledore asked with a slight frown, "Though I trust your instincts and motives this sounds very like old stories of demon summonings and other dangerous magics. You would be wise to remember the tale of Dr. Faustus."

"Can you keep a secret sir?"

"Of course my dear boy, you should know that well enough."

Harry didn't so much as twitch but a gentle breeze ruffled through Dumbledore's hair and Harry's voice whispered in his ear, "Good, so can I."

Seeing that no one else was going to complain, Harry turned and started working. With great care Harry sprinkled sage and rosemary into an elaborate compass rose he had drawn on the floor. Gabrielle carefully placed blue candles at the cardinal points and Harry lit a stick of incense. Breathing deep he took one last look at the book beside him and started his chant.

"Iba a se isu  
Nou eloj a lespir sou dye.  
Iba a se isu  
Nou eloj a lespir sou dye  
Iba a se isu  
Nou eloj a lespir sou dye  
Ase  
Met li ap aton!"

As each candle was lit with the incense the room became darker and more intimate. When the final candle was lit the herbs burst into flame and a thick blue smoke rose from them.

"Legba Antibon, Maitre Carrefore e Bondye a sosye, prete nou ou benediksyon. Puvri suel a mwen e plen nou avek pisans pou nou travay."

Odette whispered a translation to the Order members who chose to stay, "Papa Legba, Master of the Crossroads and Lord of Sorcerers, lend us your blessing. Open the spirit world to us and give us strength for our task."

The smoke from the herbs began swirling into a misty looking disk and everyone felt a massive surge of power flood the room. What looked like a bolt of lightning shot out of the disk and caught Harry in the forehead. As he fell backward in convulsions a second bolt shot out to catch Gabrielle. One by one the lightning unerringly struck out at everyone in the room no matter what shields they might try to employ. Instead of harming them however, the lightning burned with fierce power and filled them with strength and magic.

Once the smoke and lightning dissipated Harry carefully brushed the ashes and melted wax off the altar as he prepared for the second part. Gabrielle poured out finely powdered salt in a new pattern while Odette placed the thirteen black candles and other props. The salt pattern resembled a cross over a well decorated tomb and the candles arranged like the hours on a clock with one in the center. Harry meanwhile was psyching himself up for the most difficult part. In order to get the spirit to possess him (a small thing he neglected to tell the others about), he would have to endure a bit of pain. In a small wooden bowl he crushed seven bright red peppers and mixed them with a splash of cheap rum. Once the pattern was ready, Harry rubbed the mixture across his skin and took a long pull straight from the bottle. The spirit liked it hot and Harry had to struggle not to break up the ceremony,

"Set kout kouto,  
Set kout pwenyad!  
Prete ma dedin ah,  
Pou ma vomi san mwen!  
San mwen ape koule! "

"Seven stabs of the knife, seven stabs of the dagger. Lend me the basin, so I can vomit my blood. My blood is pouring down." Odette translated with a wince as Harry vomited the pepper and rum mixture back into the bowl then placed his hands over his eyes.

Harry could no longer see from the pain but forced himself to finish the invocation, "Baron Samedi, Bondye a Mort e Metrize sou les Zombi, monte mwen e koute nan nou pled. Itilize mwen kom ou swete."

"Baron Saturday, Lord of Death and Master of the Inferi, ride me and listen to our plea. Use me as you wish." Odette watched in morbid fascination as Harry's body twisted and changed. His small robes ripped and fell off him as a small child was replaced by a barrel-chested man nearly seven feet tall. His skin darkened and his hair formed dreadlocks. Quickly he snatched up the top hat and sunglasses that had been laid nearby and pulled on the coat tails

High pitched nasal laughter pierced the silence and the man who had taken Harry's place turned to the others. He looked to Gabrielle and seemed to recognize her, "It be de dead-boy's little girl! The otha' gede talking bout de boy, he messin' with big juju, Gi-gi-gi!" he laughed nasally again and sat on the altar as he lit a massive cigar. "So why de two white chillun callin' on big bad Baron Samedi?

0000000

A/N; Check my profile page for a link to a picture of how I imagine Samedi-riding-Harry, all the way at the bottom.


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